Redefining the Impossible
by Etimire T
Summary: "You're asking us to believe you died, woke up in another body, and now CONVENIENTLY can't remember who you were before." Rose shook her head, "That's insane." "I never said it wasn't," the stranger murmured. The pink and yellow human sighed, "What's your name then? Do you know?" The stranger thought for a moment, "I think they call me the Doctor."
1. Chapter 1

AN: Hi! Please review, and follow, and if there is anything else you can do... do that too. Yeah, so have fun! I hope you like!

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Chapter One: The Doctor? That's a Rubbish Name.

What happened? How did he get here? The stranger lay against a crumbling brick wall, gasping for breath. Wait. _What_? He was _breathing_? Just five seconds ago he could have sworn he'd taken his last.

If he thought hard, he could remember falling out of the third story window. No, no, that wasn't right. He didn't fall; he was pushed! Anger flared through the stranger's chest as he struggled to recall the events. He'd seen his reflection in the dark sunglasses of… of someone. The stranger remembered his reflection had rather large ears, buzz-cut black hair and looked bloody terrified.

Then there was an explosion of glass, and he lost sight of the 'person', whoever it was, as he freefell to the concrete below. He hit the floor headfirst and everything disappeared. He cringed at the thought of it.

Then the world had exploded. He was enveloped in a fiery whirlwind of light and pain. It hurt, oh stars, it hurt, but in a way it was a good pain, like shedding an old skin, or putting on a new set of clothes.

The stranger frowned. Now he was here, leaning against this wall, still terrified, and for the life of him, not able to recall anything else! Did he have a name? He searched his mind, trying to find the answer, but all he could come up with was some bloody title. The Doctor. What kind of rubbish name was that?

Suddenly, a feeling of urgency hit him, and the stranger's eyes snapped open. His murderer might still be out there somewhere, waiting to kill him… again. Dead or not dead, the stranger knew he needed to get out of here, now.

One problem… his vision was as clear as mud, and after attempting to stumble to his feet, the stranger realized that control of his limbs was shaky at best. Everything felt… wrong. He frowned, trying to keep to his feet. Dimly, the stranger registered his tattered clothing and bare toes. _I probably look like a zombie, _the man thought; _then again, I have a justifiable reason to do so._

Standing slowly, the world spun and attempted to deposit him on the ground once more, but the stranger wasn't having it. He grit his teeth, and clung to the brick wall like it was his lifeline. After a few moments, the pounding in his head reduced to a dull throb, and his stomach stopped heaving enough for him to stand.

_It's dark, _was his first thought, as his vision cleared. _Why's it dark? _The stranger frowned_, Cause it's night, you idiot_. He answered himself. Not wasting anymore time, the man stumbled out of the alleyway and started to run. As he fled down the empty street, the man realized he felt taller, and perhaps faster than he was use to.

Weird.

He wasn't sure where he was going, but the man knew he needed to get away from the site of his should-have-been death, so he ran, and he ran, and he ran. He ran until he couldn't run anymore. And then finally, the man stopped. Gasping for breath, he glanced around. An absurd wave of giddy happiness washed over him, and the man did a small hop-skip, nearly falling on his face as he tried to will his limbs into submission. _I'm alive! Sure I don't know why, or how, or where I am, but I'm still breathing! That has to count for something!_ The man couldn't stop himself from grinned, and he realized this sudden mode swing was unnatural. Why was he happy again? He couldn't even remember now.

The stranger frowned inwardly, taking in his surrounding for the first time. He was in some sort of city. There were people about, but only a few late night stragglers. They avoided him, and the man could only guess why. Blinking rhythmically, the OPEN sign on a family owned diner beckoned him. A small park was next to the restaurant, with twisting paths and a tiny lake. Falling silently, snow left a crisp blanket over the frozen pond. The whole city seemed to be sleeping. Perhaps he could find some help in the restaurant, maybe find out where he was? Jogging across the empty road, the man was startled by the sight of the diner door opening. A small bell twinkled and he heard female laughter, saw a flash of blond hair. Stumbling backwards, the man fell into some bushes and landed with a thump.

The stranger attempted to stand, perhaps the woman could help him, but suddenly, he felt something twist inside his chest, like someone was squeezing his lungs. Mostly hidden from sight, the man collapsed behind some bushes that were next to the restaurant. He couldn't move; couldn't signal the woman for help. It felt like he was on _fire_! Curling into a ball, the man groaned. _What's wrong with me? _He asked himself, but his mind refused to answer. Then everything dissolved into blackness once more.

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AN: Dun, dun, dunnnnnn! Stay tuned for more! ;)


	2. Chapter 2

Rose's fingers were entangled with her boyfriend Mickey's and she attempted to lock the front door of the diner. She promised her coworker Kate that she would do so.

"Are you sure it's ok if I take off?" Kate had asked, out of politeness more than actual concern. She had 'somebody' waiting for her at home. Rose wondered dully who it was _this_ week.

"Yeah, yeah, it's fine." Rose sighed, giving Kate the answer she wanted; "I'm meeting Mickey here later anyway."

Kate grinned, glad to skip out on the work, "You," she pointed at Rose from her place halfway through the front door, "are the absolute best!" she flashed perfectly straight teeth.

Rose attempted a smile, "Go on, then. Enjoy your night."

Kate winked conspiratorially, "You too."

Rolling her eyes, Rose continued to wipe up the syrupy mess an undisciplined child caused this evening. She remembered he refused to eat anything other than pancakes for dinner, despite the embarrassed parents pleas, and started to scream the moment they mentioned he eat something more… _dinnery_. Rose shook her head, snorting. _Dinnery_… that wasn't even a word. Moving on the mountain of dishes, Rose tugged at a stray strand of hay colored hair behind her ear and tackled the monstrous pile.

Now, two hours later, the diner was finally cleaned up and she could spend some time with Mickey before going home to her mother's house and collapsing in exhaustion. The mechanic pulled up in his truck and walked to the door, hands in pockets. He looked just as exhausted as she felt, and Rose appreciated the fact that he still wanted to hang out with her, even though a nap sounded amazing at the moment.

"You ready?" he said, a smile on his face.

Rose couldn't help smiling in return. She followed him outside, locking the diner behind them. "I was _born_ ready," she laughed, kissing his cheek.

"Good," Mickey said, "You hungry?

Rose nodded, "Starved."

"There's a diner down the road that's open till twelve." Her boyfriend suggested.

Rolling her eyes, Rose pushed him playfully, "That's like treason, you know."

"No offence, Rose. But the food at your diner tastes horrible."

Rose snorted, "Yeah, well blame Kate. She does the cooking when the _actual_ cook is out, which is a lot."

Mickey laughed. "You really shouldn't let-"

Suddenly a soft sound trickled into Rose's ear "_Shhh_." she interjected, pressing a finger against his lips distractedly. Rose bent toward the sound, listening. She could have sworn…

"What?" Mickey protested, pushing her finger away.

"Quiet!" she insisted, "I thought I heard something."

Mickey tried to pull her along. "It's probably nothing, Rose. Let's go."

Rose batted his hand away, her breath freezing in the air around them, "Jus' give me a sec." Pulling her jacket tighter around her, she looked around the corner of the building. "It sounds like it came from over here." She said, squinting in the darkness. What did she hear? Rose waited in stiff silence for several seconds, and then sighed. Mickey was right. It was probably noth-

Suddenly she heard a groan, and the hairs on her arms stood on end. Mickey shifted his weight from behind her, looking slightly apprehensive. "Did you hear tha-"

"Yeah," Rose interrupted, bending down. She reached her hand into her pocket for a cell phone, but discovered it needed to be charged. "I need some light. Here, give me your phone." She said, "Mine's dead."

Mickey rolled his eyes, reaching into his pockets. He frowned, "I think I left it at work."

Rose sighed, exasperated. "Mick-"

"If you wait a second," he interrupted, putting a hand up. Jingling his keys, he unclipped an item and handed it to her. "I have a torch."

Rose smiled, accepting the tiny light. "Ever resourceful," she winked, turning toward the dark corner. Flicking on the torch, Rose gasped. "Oh my gosh! Mickey, look!"

Mickey was still standing slightly behind her, and he peered over her shoulder, his eyes growing wide. Collapsed in a pathetic excuse of a bush, was a man, a remarkably attractive one, Rose noted. With a single glance, the waitress took in his tattered leather jacket and too short pants. He was barefoot and shivering, curled into a fetal position.

"W-what's wrong with him?" Mickey stuttered. "Is he hurt?"

Rose shook her head, "I don't think so, but we should call the hospital."

Mickey agreed, reaching for his phone. He paused, "No phones, remember?"

Rose groaned, "There's a phone in the diner I think. He looks freezing!" She reached forward and touched the man's arm. He was boiling up and she drew her hand back in surprise.

"We should get him inside," Mickey said.

Rose nodded, and with great difficultly, the two of them managed to drag the unconscious stranger out of the snowy bush. Any passing strangers might have noted the scene with interest, but no one saw the trio. Fumbling with the lock, Rose opened the glass door and they managed to lay the man on a booth. The stranger's legs hung off the edge comically, and couple panted from the exertion of moving him. Pausing a moment to catch their breaths, Rose blew a stray hair from her eyes, hands on her hips.

Mickey exited the building and came back with a blanket he kept in his car. Carefully laying it on the man, they stared at him, unsure.

"What now?" Rose asked, glancing at Mickey. Concern was evident in her voice.

Mickey returned his girlfriend's look. This was one of the many things he liked about her. Here she was, concerned about some stranger. "The diner has a phone, you were going to call…" he started.

But Rose was already off to the reception area, scrambling to get the phone of the wall. "Right," she said, "I'll just call the hospital. They can figure out wha-"

"NO!" the stranger shouted suddenly, flinging himself upright. A look at his brown eyes, and Rose knew he wasn't truly conscious. "No hospitals!"

He was holding something in his hand, pointing it at her. There was a buzzing sound, and suddenly the phone sparked. Rose shrieked in surprise, dropping the receiver. The machine smoked, and when Rose picked up the dangling phone. All she could hear was static. It was dead. Dropping the receiver, Rose turned back to Mickey and the stranger. Mickey was in the process of untangling himself from several chairs he fell into after being startled to death by a man he thought was unconscious. The stranger dropped back again into oblivion, and the tool he held in his hand dropped to the floor.

Rose frowned, picking her way across the diner and snatching the object from the tiled floor. It was silver with a blue tip. Mickey brushed himself off, attempting to regain his dignity. "What's that?" he asked, glancing at the object.

Shrugged, Rose put it back into the man's pocket. She noted the pocket was a great deal larger on the inside than it appeared to be on the outside. "I dunno, but somehow it broke the phone." She bit her tongue, wondering what they should do now.

Mickey shook his head, "How are we going to get him to a hospital now?"  
"You heard him," Rose cocked her head at the mysterious stranger; "He must have a reason for not wanting to go."

Pulling up a chair for Rose and himself, Mickey sat down heavily. He yawned, "Yeah, well he's still sick or something."

Rose nodded, suddenly realizing how utterly spent she felt. Mickey's yawn caught up to her, and she followed suit. Sitting down, Rose leaned her head against Mickey's shoulder. "We'll just have to wait until he wakes up." She placed a cool hand on the man's pale forehead. "He doesn't seem as hot as before, and he's not shivering."

Mickey nodded submissively, not wanting to do anything that would cause Rose to remove her head from his shoulder. So the two people sat watching the stranger, and time seemed to stand still. A clock ticking through the night was the only reminder that the Earth kept turning. Busy people went about their business, unaware of this fated evening; unaware of how much a waitress from London, and a mysterious man without a name would sacrifice for them.


	3. Chapter 3

Rose realized she must have fallen asleep at some point, because suddenly she was waking up. With a start, she jerked away from Mickey. She was breathing hard. Rose frowned; she had had the weirdest dream, something about… a wolf? The harder she tried to recall it, the more it slipped from her grasp, like sand in an hourglass. After a moment, Rose sighed and gave up.

She glanced at the stranger. Something woke her up, she was sure of it, but what had done so? The man appeared to be sleeping peacefully, however, he suddenly let out a pitiful groaned, clutching his chest. Immediately, Rose shifted Mickey's weight off her and leaned toward the man. Mickey remained asleep. Was the stranger alright?

She jerked backwards as a gold smoke, or dust of some sort escaped the stranger's lips. _What_? Rose thought. It floated above the stranger's head, a beautiful mystery, before dissipating. Rose wanted to touch it, but the dust was gone before she could even reach up her hand. Mesmerized, Rose didn't notice the man's eyes flick open.

0o0o

The stranger felt like an elephant had decided to use his chest as a stool. He groaned, trying to shift the weight, but he was too deep in the recesses of the mind to control his limbs. Slowly, the stranger climbed his way out of the dark hole, gripping onto whatever he could to stay at least partially conscious.

After what felt like forever, the blackness lightened. The man could hear something… a clock ticking? And then there was a smell… syrup? He was lying on his back, on a firm object he couldn't define. The man felt the weight that kept his eyes glued shut, and his lungs compressed, budge suddenly and dissipate into nothing. Lapping up the air, the man's eyes shot open.

He was in an old fashioned diner. _What_?

Memories of the last few hours came pouring in, but before that, his reminiscence remained stubbornly empty. The woman must have found him outside, the man reasoned. As he thought that, his eyes lighted on a beautiful girl in front of him, no, not a girl, a woman. She was young, but confident, and was currently staring at the space above his head in confusion and wonderment.

She glanced down at him, realizing with a start that he was awake. For a moment, they just stared at each other, and the man wondered what caused the woman to look at him with such a curious expression. Then the blonde haired woman smiled, tongue in teeth. "You're awake!" she said happily.

The stranger blinked, struggling to sit up. He was balanced between feeling like he was hit by a semi truck and feeling like he could run a marathon. It was very disorienting, and the fact that his body still felt not quite right wasn't helping the sensation. Helping him into a sitting position, the woman stared at him for a moment before shaking away a thought. "I'm Rose." She introduced herself. The stranger felt himself relax slightly. She seemed friendly enough. "We found you unconscious outside the diner."

"I'm-" he started, and then stopped, panic slowly etching under his skin. That wasn't his voice. The stranger was _certain_ he didn't sound like that. Beating even more rapid than it had before, the man felt for a moment that his heart was thrumming in two parts of his chest. _But that's impossible, _the man thought, dismissing the notion. He tried to speak again and stopped once more.

The woman Rose must have seen the confusion and shock on his face because she frowned, "Are you alright?"

The man gulped, "I- I don't know, actually. Where- where I am?"

Studying the man for a moment, Rose wondered what caused that panicked look to arise in his eyes moments before. "Uh, this is Mattie's Diner, just off of Fourth-Third Street."

The man blinked blankly, "Sorry, what city, or country, for that matter?"

Rose gave a short laugh of surprise, "Right, um, London, England."

"Earth?"

Now Rose laughed for real. "Yes! Where else?"

The stranger frowned, _obviously, of course, where else would I be?_

Mickey was awakened by his girlfriend's laughter. He yawned and rubbed a hand across his face. The stranger thought the overall clad man looked absolutely exhausted. "Oh! He's awake!" Mickey mumbled, clearly trying to shed the cobwebs of sleep.

"Hi." The stranger said, cautiously trying out his new voice, since the other one had apparently disappeared.

"Hello?" the overall man said, putting a protective hand over Rose as if to say, _she's mine_. The stranger played with the idea of him being a brother or husband, but dismissed the thought almost immediately. They were a bit young to be married, and the man still seemed cautious around the girl, like he was afraid she'd run away. He was definitely a boyfriend. Rose shrugged off his arm.

The stranger got the message the man was trying to send. This 'Mickey' was lucky to have a girl like her. "You're a mechanic, then, Mickey?" the stranger said with a smirk.

Mickey blinked in surprise. "Yeah, how do you-?" No one had told the stranger Mickey's name.

"Your overalls are covered in oil stains, and it says Bob's Car Shop on your name tag, which also has your name." The stranger supplied as explanation.

Rose giggled, "You're a quick one."

_I am, aren't I,_ the stranger remarked to himself, not in arrogance, but as simple acceptance of a fact he'd not previously known, or at least remembered.

Rose tapped her hands against her knees before turning to Mickey, "Um, Mickey, this is…" she trailed off, realizing she didn't know the stranger's name. Her eyes met the stranger's with the question.

This was it, the stranger realized; he could either trust this woman and her mechanic boyfriend, or not. Part of him was wary, it's not like they would believe him anyway, he hardly believed it himself, but another part, or maybe it was a sixth sense of sorts, told him he could trust Rose. The couple took the time to drag him into the diner; they'd even given him a blanket, he noted. It was unlikely they'd throw him into the cold. Taking a deep breath, the stranger restlessly got up from the booth, much to the surprise of the couple.

"Not sick, then?" Mickey murmured.

The stranger sighed, glancing down at his hands. He froze. These weren't his hands; actually, as he looked down at his body, covered in tattered and shrunken clothing, he knew that none of it was his. _What is going on?!_ He glanced at Rose and Mickey, who were waiting with worried expressions for him to answer their questions. The stranger's eyes trailed behind them and suddenly the world faded. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in a mirror behind the reception desk, and the knees of a man who was not him went weak.

Instead of peach fuzz short hair and bright blue eyes, the man staring with panicked _brown_ eyes back at him through the glass had gravity defiant brown hair that swooped upwards. He even had sideburns. _Sideburns, for stars sake_! His reflection's face was thinner than before and his ears were not quite as large. He was taller and thinner, and looked absolutely nothing like he should, not even a little.

"Falling stars," he whispered, oblivious to the confusion of his rescuers, "I'm not me."

"What's that suppose to mean?" Mickey scoffed.

Rose got up quickly, steadying the stranger as he fell heavily into a chair. "You alright, mate?"

The stranger almost laughed, but it came out at as croak, "This is going to sound mad, alright? But I swear, everything is completely true."

**AN: Yeah... So sorry it's short. I'll try to make the next one longer. Anywho, please tell me what you think so far. What character's do you want the Doctor to meet? What enemies? I'm not making any promises, but I'll try to include as much has I can if it makes sense. I really don't want to run dry, so help is greatly appreciated!**


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